Timeless
by Polychromasia
Summary: A bitter girl, an indecisive wolf and a demanding vampire. This seems like an interesting enough tale to tell doesn't it? Well, this is my story. A story of heartache, resentment and the unquenchable taste of revenge. But before you read it may I warn you that this story isn't filled with happy endings. This love is not innocent, its selfish, ready to sacrifice anyone along its way
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for the plot, Morgana, her family, friends and all of the other OC characters. Though I won't mind owning one certain Jacob Black ;) **

**Please review! This is my very first fanfiction and I really hope that someone will be kind enough to review. Critics are welcomed but flames are not! As people always said; don't like don't read.**

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_**Timeless**_

_**Prologue **_

"_**Time is what we want most, but what we use worst."  
**__**―**__** William Penn**_

The sands of time stared mockingly at me, daring me to stop them. What is time? The thing that always moved forward without looking back. For me; it's a cruel, cold and unforgiving thing.

If you enjoy something it immediately speeds up like a wind blown mill but when your suffering in a pit of sorrow it straightaway slows down to pace that is almost unbearable to bear.

I stared at the wooden coffin beneath me, my eyes glazing over into a state of confusion and shock. I heard faint noises of people crying, sobbing and whispering comforting words towards me.

But as if I'm deaf, I can't hear anything except the same pounding noise in my head. Everything seems like an echo to me now. So so far away.

My heart feels like its been shattered, trampled and stepped on by a massive weight of pain. Slowly cracking like the pieces of a broken china doll.

I wish I could cry or feel anything except this constant numbness.

People keep throwing me pitiful glances whispering about how I looked so lifeless and dead but I couldn't have bared myself to care. He's gone; forever. That thought alone seemed to be imprinted in my mind.

When the priest started talking about how he is precious to us, I seemed to be snapped out of my momentary daze.

Ever since he died I haven't cried at all; not even once.

Maybe the truth hasn't really sunk into me, making my poor deceivable heart unable to accept the cold hard facts of him leaving me for good. But my heart has always been such a fickle thing. Using any ways to deceive my brain, to plant a little seed of hope, that maybe he's not really gone.

The daunting realization slowly hovered upon me just like the gloomy clouds that hung above my head.

The air seemed to be knocked out of my body as I fully realized the truth, my breath constricted and my lungs were burning for air.

People were starting to stare at me, worriedly murmuring to each other to come and ask me what's wrong, but too afraid to confront me by themselves. I threw my head back and let out a maniacal giggle that soon turned into a deranged fit of laughter.

His mother- the mother of the boy I have loved so- stared into my eyes with her puffy sea blue orbs, tired after being used to cry so much. The very same eyes that he used to gazed down upon me with. The very same eyes that he used to stare into my own with so much care and devotion. _**Used;**_ past tense.

_**Crack.**_ Another piece of my already broken heart seemed to crack again after seeing his eyes on his mother. She enveloped me into her arms murmuring words that I couldn't able to decipher whilst stroking my limp black hair, trying to soothe my delirious state.

This seemed to trigger another fit of hysterical giggle from me. I laughed so hard that my ribs hurts, choking vehemently from the non-stop out bursts of frenzied giggles.

People were giving me even stranger looks now, probably wondering if I've gone insane. This reaction causes me to howl with more laughters, bending down to hold my aching stomach that is now painful after much deranged chortles.

I barely registered the fact that I was not being hugged anymore but instead was brought forth to the living room where there were less guests present.

I also didn't noticed the presence of a few men that were walking towards me carrying a small silver needle that seemed to glint menacingly in the deficient light and when I finally grasped the fact that they were trying to sedate me, I was too late. I screamed, thrashed and fought them with all of my might. But all of my might still seemed to not be strong enough.

After a few moments of fighting my body grew heavy and tired. My mind slowly succumbing to the peaceful realm of unconsciousness.

In my last few moments of awakeness, I heard a pained wolf's howl.

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**Sooo do you like it? Please favorite, follow or review if you do! Thanks!**

**Much love - FairyNightSong **


	2. Chapter 1

**Author Note: Hey guys! Welcome back and I'm so sorry for the late update! Bad author! Smack self with a Fork! This is the very **_**first **_**ever chapter of Timeless and I really do hope you like it! **

**Please review, favorite or follow guys, so I know that someone-anyone-out there is reading my fanfic. **

**I'll update the next chapter after I received at least 3 reviews but if I received 5 reviews or more I will update straight away! Eagle scout's promise! ;) **

**Remember reviews make me work faster hehee! *hint hint* And let me tell you a secret Jacob will appear in the next chapter! **

**Thanks to all of my reader who have followed, favorite or reviewed this story! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for the plot, Morgana, her family, friends and all of the other OC characters. **

**This chapter is dedicated to: scarlett's fever**

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**Q&A: **

**thepixieblonde: Yeah, sadly Morgana is one selfish bitch. And I **_**totally**_** agree with you that Morgana is as destructive as Jacob is. But this have to be done. I mean whats the fun with such an innocent OC? This OC is going to give Jacob a run for his money.**

**Luna Spiderwick: Thank you for your very encouraging comment! I look forward to keep this story going and I hope you'll stick around to hear the end of this story.**

**Cassie-D 101: Thank you! **

**scarlett's fever: Thank you for your input! I would like to learn to be a better author. Suggestions are welcomed.**

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_**Chapter 1**_

"_**Time is the longest distance between two places."  
― Tennessee Williams, The Glass Menagerie**_

A crash could be heard from the elegant Mediterranean house. The house was large, or what could be considered large for the humble citizens of Forks.

The house was two floored with an interior that was made entirely out of pinewood, that has a bronzed colored double door with intricate golden patterns twining on its surface, making it look all the more elegant.

The house was located right in front of the forest, its back door straightaway leading towards a small path into to the woods. Bordering between the small Indian Reservation called La Push and a rainy omnipresent town called Forks.

The crash had come from the second floor of the house, inside a darkly lit room that faced the forest, and housed a pale girl with skin like the moon.

The girl's features are alluring and yet it looked cold with embitterment. Lethal, like that of siren that sadistically lures sailors to their death.

She has raven black locks that cascades down her shoulders in soft big curls, which now lay tangled across her cheeks like a giant fan.

Her cheeks are round and plump, tinted with a coral pink hue. With cute dimples surrounding each sides of her lips giving her an air of uncommon innocence, unbefitting to her coldly stoic expression.

She laid in a heap on top of her king sized bed arms parted wide on either side of her body.

"Can you please just shut up?!" She cried at the offending alarm clock from across the room, where it had been roughly thrown out.

After a few more inconsequential grumbles she flitted her eyes opened. Her pale green eyes now visible as she searched for the alarm clock.

Her eyes had always been a peculiar color, not exactly emerald green and not exactly crystal blue. It's like a mixture of two entirely different colors, forced to merge into one, resulting an almost eerie green-blue shade, which most people would define as a misty green.

It seems like her genes couldn't just decide whether she would inherit her mother's crystal blue orbs or her father's emerald green ones.

She then stood up to her full height-that is not really that tall at all-and walked across the room, picked up her alarm clock and turned it off.

If there is one obvious physical flaw that could be mentioned is probably her _**way**_ under average height, giving her a waif like appearance.

She stands at the exact height of 5'4, and if anyone even dared to comment on her short height she would bravely yelled at them to 'Shut the fuck up! Or I'll shut it for you.' With a following threat of a sock to the jaw.

That threat alone is enough ammunition to send most affronted and scared by standers away, though some foolishly brave soul still tried to stand their point and tease her some more, resulting for them to receive a harsh knee to the groin with several more punches from her _**very **_competent best friend.

After experiencing that rough treatment people had learned to stay away from her and just tended to talk about her in hushed whispers, gossiping conspicuously like she is stupid enough to not notice.

_**Oh well**_, she thought; _**you can't always have everything**_. At least they stayed away from her and avoided any talk about her when she's near. They needed to know _**who**_ is exactly in charge.

She trudged into her bathroom, which is located inside her room, and took a long hot bath to calm her nerves.

It will only be a couple more years before she could get out of this town and live on her own instead of living in this house she called her own personal hell.

She knows that she's somewhat pretty, or what's it called again? Yes,_** beautiful**_. She's beautiful enough, she decides though not overly so like Rosalie Hale.

She's not flawless or perfect but at least she's pretty enough to snag a boy or two.

Rosalie Hale is picture perfect gorgeous, even prettier than the models from Vogue magazines.

Morgana never really understand how Rosalie Hale-one of the members of the infamous Cullen siblings- could look so beautiful, so perfect as if she's an angel that has fallen out of heaven.

Rosalie Hale, like the rest of the Cullen siblings, had that surreal inhuman beauty about them that strangely draws other people in. She and Edward Cullen are one of the most infuriatingly beautiful people Morgana had ever seen.

So beautiful that it seems like they stepped out of a Hans Andersen fairytale!

But instead of drawing her in, their beauty had instead set of warning bells in her mind that always screams _**danger **_whenever they were near.

They had reminded her of the Venus Flytrap, a dangerous predator that uses their beauty to capture their prey. Dazzling it before it lunges.

Though beautiful, they are even more cold and closed off to people than she is. The kids at school liked to call them 'Those pretty snob rich kids'

Rosalie Hale had even managed to beat her in the bitch department. Treating everyone, who are not her family, cruelly. Unjustly dismissing anyone she thought unimportant, and that is basically everyone.

Rosalie's clipped nature had finally, after quite some time, repelled the disgustingly hormonal teenage boys from following her every where like a couple of salivating dogs.

Pretty people are snobs, she cynically thought.

_**Including you the**_**n,** a voice in her head whispered to her tauntingly. _**Your mean!**_ She told her conscience.

_**Did you know that talking to your self is the first sign of madness?**_ Her conscience commentated.

_**Ugh! Shut up! **_She barked.

When there is no more reply she victoriously smiled.

The Cullens, with all of their infamous glory, are all inhumanly perfect, and she even heard a passing gossip that an unfortunate nurse at Forks hospital had accidentally cut her finger open because she was so nervous with working with the ever so charming and handsome Doctor Cullen.

The entire Cullen siblings are all unfortunately unavailable though, since they all had conveniently coupled off with each other.

'_**Isn't it incest though? I mean they're all brother and sister, though not biologically so.'**_ Her small town mind cried at her.

The dreamy Edward Cullen had been recently single before he too had literally run off and dated the meek and mousy Isabella Swan.

Morgana herself had never really understood what's so special about Bella. She's just so plain, boring and shy. There's like nothing interesting about her. Its like she doesn't even have a personality!

Though if she is being generally honest Bella seems to be quite nice if compared to the bitchy Lauren Mallory. _**Quite**_ being the key word.

But there's just so much _**drama **_surrounding that girl that Morgana can't help but dislike her.

Especially after she turned into one of the characters from the movie 'Dawn Of The Dead' when Edward left her.

_**'I mean c'mon people who turned into zombie mode after being dumped by their boyfriend?! From the way she's acting, I would've thought she had gotten cancer or something! Dramatic much?'**_ She thought disbelievingly.

But she really can't judge because if she knew the truth of how much Bella Swan does really love Edward, she would then understand that Bella loves Edward just as much as she loves Juno.

The boy that could always somehow warm her perpetually cold heart.

The boy that could always somehow stole her breath away.

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**Morgana (Morgaine) Avalon Le Fay **

I stepped down the stairs with my designer clothes billowing behind me like wings as I trudged closer and closer towards my impending doom.

'Stop being dramatic Morgana for goodness's sakes! Your just going to your kitchen!' I mentally scolded my self.

"Morgaine! Go down now! We're going to have breakfast!" My mother's sharp voice pierced through the air.

"Yes, _**Monique"**_

"_**Mother**_" she corrected me.

"Its _**Morgana**_, Monique" I stubbornly countered.

She shot me a withering glare, "I named you _**Morgaine **_and you may as well start addressing yourself as that."

"But Mama! It is pronounced _**Morgana**_ in English!"

"Then it eez not correctly pronounced! Your zrue zame eez Morgaine not Morgana! You zhould zry to zet used to it!" She heatedly argued, her French accent thickening whenever she grew angry.

"Oui" I rolled my eyes at her, not in the mood for another fierce argument.

I walked closer towards the kitchen taking a deep breath for yet another awkward family breakfast that my mother had insisted us all on doing.

Since this is the only time of the day that we could all possibly meet together as a whole family, because we all rarely meet each other everyday.

I bitterly chuckled. Nothing my mother does could possibly fix up this already messed up family.

"Morning honey" my mother greeted me, her dark face quickly shifting to a sunny persona.

She once again managed to surprised me at how well she acted and changed her moods. _**She should have her very own soap opera,**_ I thought scathingly.

My mother was a beautiful woman with her crystal blue eyes and straight black locks and yet her beauty disgusted me, since it is an obvious symbol of her easy infidelity.

I had always looked like my bastard of a father with my misty green eyes and curly inky black hair. Well, at least my father never failed to give me a big amount of good'ol cash.

The only thing I got from my mother was her ultimately pale complexion that could never be tanned no matter how hard she tried-since her mother, my grandmother, was pure albino-and her small button nose.

"Morning" I grumbled towards her.

"Tut tut. Someone isn't in a good mood today" she lightly chastised me, waving around her wooden spoon.

My sternly severe gaze faltered when I accidentally looked upon my sister who was pleasantly sitting at the dining table, her pixie like figure bending towards her pancakes.

Her crystal blue eyes shifted to meet my gaze, shining with barely conceived annoyance.

I loathed her. So much that I could feel the hate bubbling in my core like a dormant volcano just waiting for the perfect time to burst.

I think she knows that I hated her but it doesn't matter because I know that she hated me too, the feeling's mutual.

The girl that had ruined everything by simply existing! I wish she had never been born, even if it is cruel for me to wish so since she is my sister.

But life had been _**so**_ much easier back then.

I turned my nose up in the air like the snob I was and sniffed disdainfully at the air, not missing my sister's roll of the eyes.

I then gracefully walked to my seat in a lady like manner, planted my self on it and let out an indignant huff.

I expertly tapped my manicured painted fingers on the mahogany table creating an incessant tap, tap, tap beat that I know irked her.

My mother sighed at our childish acts but dared not comment on it fearing my explosion of temper-that had managed to break two broken windows, a crystal glass and a precious china vase-the last time she had tried to _**'soften'**_ me up.

But like my father, I am as stubborn as a mule. Or even more so then one.

My mother hated my stubbornness and she said and I quote 'That kind of act will get you nowhere Morgana! Nowhere! One day you'll understand'

She had said those words with tears of anger pooling in her eyes making her look all the more pitiful.

I snuck a glance at my sister and was irked to see her babbling obliviously to her phone about some trashy piece of gossip, seemingly without a care in the world. Looking as content as a child on Christmas's eve.

My sister had a small petite figure like me, though her is even more so. She had barely reached 4'8 at her thirteen years of age.

Over the years she had grown quite pretty if I must admit, though I will rather die than say it to her face.

She had tanned skin and a sharp angular face that made her looked strong and athletic, with a toned body that had been created after years and years of endless swimming practices.

Extremely different from my soft elegant features that are fulled of dainty attributes.

"Ma, I'm gonna be home late today cause I have another ballet practice this afternoon until six. We're going to have a performance in Le Scala De Milan!" I bragged.

The fact that I am a professional ballet dancer and she's not is another stab to her ego and I just _**love**_ pouring salt to her wound. Tormenting her meticulously had been a favored hobby of mine.

At the age of seven my sister had decided to have ballet lessons and my mother was so elated that she made her join me in my weekly lessons since she thought out same fondness for that particular dance will help us _**bond.**_

_**As if, **_my subconsciously bitter reply meandered through my mind.

She had been eager back then, and her eagerness had annoyed me instead of making me the least bit fond of her.

But after two years of lessons she then started to wonder why could I skip levels just after six months of study, and perform in a famous opera house in England after a year whilst she just managed to progress averagely like any other student.

_**Flashback**_

_**I stooped down fluidly performing a piqué in the training room, when I heard a familiarly annoying voice.**_

"_**Ms. Anne! Ms. Anne!" My sister cried in her sickly sweet nine year old voice.**_

"_**Yes, darling? What is it?" Ms. Anne replied kindly.**_

"_**Why can't I perform in the theatre of England with all of the big girls?"**_

"_**Oh sweetie! That's what got you so moody these last couple of days! You're not yet old enough honey and you also haven't learned as much as the big girls who have been here longer"**_

_**My sister paused for a while as if thinking if it is a valid enough reason, then frowned and pressed more. "But sissy can perform there and she's not even a big girl yet! She's only two years older than me!"**_

"_**Oh Ruby darling! My precious little gem, you and your sister are different people and because of that you achieve different things" Ms. Antoinette placed my sister on her lap.**_

_**Ruby. That is **_such_** a corny name! I mean who the hell named their child Ruby? Definitely no sane person would! But my ditzy mother had named my sister Ruby and I couldn't exactly think her sane either. So in some weird twisted way, I think it fits her.**_

_**Or I guess I'm just biased, not that it would be likely for me to admit so.**_

"_**But Ms, I want to perform in England too! I've been practicing! Watch! You'll see that I've improved now" Ruby jumped down Ms. Anne's lap eagerly and did a clumsy piqué that almost make me pity her.**_

"_**Darling you and your sister are like two different jewels, both beautiful and special. Each of them shining in their own way, you are a ruby and she is a diamond. Not one is better than the other. She is just more gifted in this particular art, my sweet" Ms. Anne stroked my sister's head.**_

_**She must have interpreted it in the wrong way as the only thing that her childish brain can assume was that Ms. Anne said that I was better than her. **_

_**She then harshly shoved Ms. Anne away and yelled every atrocious word that her nine year old mind know to a stunned Ms. Anne, shrieking even louder than a banshee. **_

_**Ms. Anne completely horrified now at my sister's sudden wild behavior immediately left and called my embarrassed mother to come and pick my sister up.**_

_**I confidently approached my sister and patted her now messy blond bun with a pale hand. Tidied the long loose tendrils of her hair, which is caused by her tantrum, bended down to her level and whispered into her ear. "See sister, even now I am still better than you. You are still nothing but second best" Looking like a kind, comforting sister to any passerby. **_

_**With those lasts parting words, I laughed a cold high-pitched soprano giggle before turning away from her shrieking form, my high heels clacking behind me making a staccato peal on the sleek wooden floors.**_

_**End of flashback**_

Ever since that day my sister had quitted ballet, being forever bitter to that particular art turning her newly undeterred passion towards swimming.

I smiled coldly at that pleasant memory before coming back to sip at my hot coffee, its smoke's swirling onto my face.

"That's wonderful, honey! J-just don't go home too late okay?" Monique stuttered the last phrase of her sentence, trying to be supportive to me and yet afraid to agitate her younger daughter more.

I smirked cockily at my self when I heard that, triumphant in making my mother feel uncomfortable. My lips turned down to its usual cold frown after that short few seconds of smirking.

My sister could be my father's child if it's not for her pin drop platinum blond hair.

No one-by no one I mean no one-in the long family line of Le Fays had striking blond hair and when my sister was born with one it gave everyone quite a shock.

But nobody gets as hard of an impact as _**I**_ did.

Welcome to Forks, Washington losers! I hope you have as much of a great time as I did.

I shoved my hand inside my purple Prada bag and hurriedly searched for my phone, texting rapidly once I found it.

**To Juno:**

**I miss you, I need you. **

**See you at school, Love you so fucking much.**

**- Your Morgana**

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**AN: DUN DUN DUN DUN! Its finish people!? How do you like it? Are you curious about the ever so mysterious Juno? How did Alec and Jacob will ever be mixed up in this knotted equation when she's already in love with another boy? Find out in the next chapter! **

**Review please! Your review gives me inspiration and let me remind you I will not update until I receive at least 3 reviews because I need to know if anyone is reading this! Thanks for reading and **please** favorite or follow this story too! **

**Much love – FairyNightSong **


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